


you are: jonghyun

by adashofblue



Series: the black journal [1]
Category: NU'EST
Genre: Angst, Inspired by Richard Siken, M/M, Open Ending, based on richard siken's you are jeff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 17:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13594569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adashofblue/pseuds/adashofblue
Summary: as the long seconds passed before the crash, minhyun had flashbacks of how he watched jonghyun grow, the many unknown feelings formed, and the many ways he could reach out to him.





	you are: jonghyun

**Author's Note:**

> To my dearest prompter, thank you so much for sending me this amazing prompt. I am incredibly sorry for abandoning this for too long, and I know this might be so far from your expectation but I hope you can enjoy this.

_You're in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won't tell you that he loves you,_

_but he loves you_

 

* * *

 

**_/rewind_ **

“ _A boy whom he loves_?” Jonghyun asked, sheepish eyes shining. It was a chilly December, where flowers wither and roots end. The papers strewn on his lap were lifted up, inspected like it’s a grand discovery-- _maybe it really was._

“Are you sure you’re going to read this story in the interview tomorrow?”

Minhyun was a boy, too bold and too broken to digest such delicate implications. “Yes,” he answers, unabashed grin blooming on his face.

Minhyun thought he was waiting for the water to ripple, for the tilted bridge to finally crash, burns, scatters.

“Ah,” the boy leaning on his back chuckled.

“I guess it suits you,” Jonghyun smiled. “Bold and emotional,”

Minhyun couldn’t help to notice the awkward lilt in his voice. And Minhyun wondered if it’s a piece of Jonghyun’s heart hiding behind it, or, maybe, just maybe--he’s being too introspective.

The clock ticked at exactly 11 o'clock. The night washed the tides of the Turbo’s December and the stream of static from Jonghyun’s beat-up radio.

Jonghyun’s room was a white-washed box full of balled Seoul University application papers, a box of greasy chicken and a myriad of everything else: a dirty plush toy given by Sooyeon for his luck; a tacky tapestry meant to cover the hill of his dusty _hagwon_ books; a crumpled poster of NSYNC taped shamelessly to cover a hole in the wall.

The boy he loves slept beside him, in a sweater too big for his body, in a cocoon made from his own cluelessness. Minhyun built half a question over whether or not Jonghyun realize Minhyun’s hiding too many things between his words, between the opening lines and the epilogue of the short story he made solely for Jonghyun.

 

* * *

 

**_/start_ **

Jonghyun carries the first morning of December and a bag full of unsymmetrically folded clothes, throwing them on the trunk of Minhyun’s Hyundai Sonata as he laughs. “I can’t believe you really came to pick me up,”

“I can’t believe myself either,” Minhyun cranks up the heater as Jonghyun climbs up to the passenger seat. This Jonghyun is new and familiar: an air of confidence surrounds every fiber of his being; an old, washed-up flannel worn underneath a jet black expensive parka. Thoughts of past Jonghyun are evasive for Minhyun’s mind--as years past by it shimmered down as bubbles of hot air; sometimes lukewarm, sometimes scalding.

The road is covered by a sheen layer of snow. Yangyang Airport is never busy, and no one really bothers to shovel snow out of a quiet road, no, at least not at -2 celcius degree.

“How’s Jeju?” Minhyun asks, eyes glued on the snow falling on the wiper. In the background the radio plays 2NE1’s It Hurts, as a part of the special winter night playlist.

“It’s funny how you ask me about Jeju first, when I’ve only stayed a week there, and not Tokyo, where I lived for five years,” Jonghyun chuckles, fingers fiddling with the knobs of the radio.

Minhyun works his jaw up and down for a few seconds before the answer finally drops, a whispered, “I guess it’s easier to think that you’ve been gone for a week than—well, six years,”

“I guess I owe you an apology for that,” Jonghyun smiles, looking up at the December sky. “We should avoid the expressway,” he suggests, that same smile he gave Minhyun when he breathed out his half-hearted goodbyes. (‘It’s Tokyo, it’s not that far,’ ‘My assistant editor payroll can’t afford Tokyo, unfortunately,’)

“Why?” Minhyun blinks, suddenly aware of the snow drumming too loudly on the glass.

“I just want to see Hongcheongang River from afar. You know, those days when we camped on the riverbank?”

Of course Minhyun remembers, but Jonghyun doesn’t have to know.

 

* * *

 

_And you feel like you've done something terr-_

_ible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself_

_a grave in the dirt, and you're tired._

 

* * *

**_/forward_ **

Jonghyun’s lips shiver. Minhyun wonders— _what can you tell me, Jonghyun?_

_What can you possibly tell me?_

The car topples over, dangling on the verge. There’s a telltale sound of chaos, glasses crushed from the earlier crash. Some of the glistening materials hit Jonghyun’s arm. The balance gets broken when Jonghyun moves his body. The car is teetering dangerously now, hanging on the force of gravity from the tires.

“Minhyun,”

Minhyun closes his eyes because he hopes—

He hopes this gnawing feeling, a clusterfuck of ultraviolet anger and burgundy smears in his heart burns away, _not right here, not right now._

The hope ends, eventually, and the lies fail.

“Yeah?” he breathes, knuckles painted bleached whites and indigo blues.

“I’m tired,”

Minhyun’s heart shatters as Jonghyun smiles. “It’s okay to be tired, Jonghyun-ah,”

“I’m sorry,” Jonghyun whispers.

A river of tears flow from Minhyun’s eyes--but he’s chuckling, incredulous. “You should never be sorry,”

“At least let me hold you so you won’t fall to the side,”

Jonghyun reaches out to Minhyun, palm open. Minhyun lets Jonghyun hug him from the side. The darkness settles, the gravity finally takes over. Pitter-patter of snow falling from the wiper.

 

* * *

 

**_/pause_ **

The music store on the corner was a faint smell of cigarette, a white noise that comes from the overused cassette player, the continuous click sound that comes from the students trying out too many cassettes.

Dongho worked there on the weekends, letting Minhyun and Jonghyun toy with the players and sometimes forcing them to clean the dust on the shelves.

Jonghyun wanted to be a dancer, Minki said. Minki has known him longer than Minhyun, and probably Jonghyun’s only friend who has met his sister who worked overseas since he was in 6th grade.

Minhyun couldn’t help but notice the small movement Jonghyun’s fingers make when he’s listening to the music. The flicks of his wrist and the crinkle of his oversized sweater when he moved. The smile that bloomed when he found a song he liked.

There was a vague feeling that snapped Minhyun to reality. Like he was drowning in everything Jonghyun, everything that stems from Jonghyun’s beautiful soul, everything that catches Minhyun off-guard.

As they walked home at night with patbingsu in their hands, Minhyun took a good look at his good friend’s face.

“Jonghyun,”

“Yeah?” Jonghyun carefully looked back, eyes glinting.

“Did you… want to be a dancer?”

Jonghyun laughed unabashedly. “Ah, you saw me dancing, huh? So embarrassing…”

Minhyun grinned, patbingsu temporarily forgotten.

“I… did. But obviously I’m not good at it, so I just forgot about it,”

Jonghyun looked down, suddenly crouching to re-tie his shoelace. “Can you hold this?” The boy with grey sweater asked.

Minhyun smiled when he handed back Jonghyun’s patbingsu. Jonghyun’s hand was placed awkwardly on top of his hand, grasping the dessert.

“I think you’re doing great in whatever you did and plan to do, Jonghyun-ah,”

Jonghyun’s genuine smile is still plastered in Minhyun’s mind--then, now, and always.

 

* * *

 

When Jonghyun is selected as the student body president, Minhyun gave him a cactus (courtesy of Aron-hyung from _hagwon_ , he said it’s better than roses since Jonghyun is too uncultured to deal with flowers).

Minhyun remembered how Jonghyun laughed. “Hey, at least it’s practical,” he cheered. Minki beside him shrugged, sending stinky eyes to Minhyun.

As Jonghyun walked home in front of them, Minki snorted. “You gave him a cactus without any kind of explanation,” one of his oldest friends remarked. Minhyun shrugged. “What do you expect me to do?”

Minki rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, tell him you love him? Quote one of your many poems and make him some kimbap?”

“I’d rather let him choose,” Minhyun smiles sadly.

And when Jonghyun told him excitedly the cactus grew out a flower, Minhyun smiled again. This time it was a smile to let go, to let love loose and never wish for anything in return.

 

* * *

 

_You're in a car with a beautiful boy,_

_and you're trying not to tell him that you love him, and you're trying to_

_choke down the feeling, and you're trembling, but he reaches over and_

_he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist,_

_and you feel your_

_heart taking root in your body, like you've discovered something you_

_don't even have a name for._

 

* * *

**_/play_ **

“We’re gonna fall to my side,” Jonghyun breathes, torso desperately leaning on Minhyun’s side.

Minhyun groans when a shard of glass nips his fingers on the wheel. The snow pushes the window, pressuring the broken glasses to shatter into tiny pieces.

“I think I saw a light from the back, we’re going to be fine,” Minhyun breathes. Jonghyun’s blood from his encircled arms are seeping into Minhyun’s parka and Minhyun trembles, rivers of tears suddenly coming too fast.

“I should just let go,” Jonghyun whispers.

“No, no, no, don’t,” Minhyun screams hoarsely, trying his best to hold the weight. The snow flows peacefully around them, creating powerful waves.

They’re two desperate souls trapped in a dire situation, but they’re also two hearts yearning for happiness--so Minhyun cries in desperation. He knows it’s useless to love when there’s no hope for their love, when the time’s not being kind to them.

“Minhyun?” Jonghyun asks. Minhyun looks down on Jonghyun’s head that lies on his thighs.

“Yeah?” Jonghyun’s already lost too much blood. Minhyun cries again, desperately screaming for anyone to help.

“In this lifetime and in the next ones, I want you to always be happy,” Jonghyun whispers, lifting his head. His lips touch Minhyun’s cheek next--cold and warm at the same time. The silence falls, and after it falls it never bounces back up again.

“I love you, and I’ll always wish for another second, another minute with you. I’m sorry it took this long, Minhyun-ah,” Jonghyun murmurs the words on Minhyun’s cheek, sound reverberating on his smeared skin.

Minhyun nods desperately. “It’s okay, Jonghyun-ah,”

“I think… I think I’m going... to sleep,” Jonghyun whispers. He lies his head sideway on Minhyun’s lap, eyes closed.

“Jonghyun?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you. And… I’d be honored to live the rest of my lifetime with you,” Minhyun whispers brokenly.

Jonghyun’s arms squeeze his waist a little, and Minhyun swears he can feel his smile on his thigh.

Twin smiles share a helplessness over love, over life, over truths and lies.

Another rumbling surge of snow comes from afar.

 

**_/fin._ **

**Author's Note:**

> (no, I don't have the heart to kill 2hyun so... you can imagine your own ending, lol)  
> thank you so much for reading!  
> as usual please forgive me for any kind of mistake (especially grammatical mistakes since english's not my first language)
> 
> and you can also talk to me [here](https://twitter.com/adashofblue) or [here](https://curiouscat.me/adashofblue)!


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